Happy Birthday
by Chariel
Summary: Aya and Yohji go their separate ways. Just a brief, cathartic piece I wrote and thought I'd share.


"Happy Birthday – " Yohji murmured in Aya's ear, startling him as he had presumed himself to be alone. Breakfasting shortly before dawn he had hoped he would be able to leave early enough to escape any celebratory trappings his team mates might have in mind for today. Most of all he had hoped to escape Yohji, but today of all days the man had apparently made a concerted effort to be awake shortly after him. He closed his eyes briefly and he breathed a quiet sigh. A bottle of champagne had materialised on his left side while Yohji remained hovering to his right. "Thought you'd sneak off early and avoid us all, didn't you? I know you too well..."

"Am I not allowed to pass a Sunday as I wish?" Aya replied in a cold, hushed tone. Anyone else would have been chilled by the complete unfriendliness of his retort, but Yohji was well-practised at chipping away the wall of ice he maintained around his warmer feelings. He had even succeeded in breaking through on occasion, but today would be different, though he did not yet know it.

"It's not just any Sunday." Aya sensed the tall, slender form of his fellow insinuating itself yet closer to where he sat until they were touching. "So no, I won't let you spend it alone. Wouldn't you rather we spend it together?" It was virtually a rhetorical question.

"No." Aya responded simply, and a slightly irritated sound escaped Yohji that told him this level of unwillingness had not been anticipated. The blond drew away from him and slouched back against the table facing him. He was clad in one of his much-favoured black shirts whose close-fitting nature left too little to the imagination, and equally immodest jeans. A pair of sunglasses were perched on his head, restraining the foremost strands of his shining hair. He was on fine form, but it was rare for Aya to be swayed by his appearance and today he found himself mercifully unaffected.

"C'mon," Yohji tried with a teasing pout, "I'll drive you anywhere you like. We could go to the beach and relax." Aya knew precisely which beach he was speaking of – one they had discovered not many weeks before and found to be conducive to private activities in the small hours of the morning. He was already shaking his head as Yohji continued. "At least let me give you your presents. You know – you aren't all that easy to buy for, but – "

"Before you give me anything," Aya interrupted firmly, still maintaining a discrete volume, "I have to tell you – " He had succeeded in getting Yohji's attention, and as he paused a confused frown took up residence on his team mate's face.

"Tell me _what_?" Yohji prompted when his hesitation became a lengthy silence.

"I can't carry on with this any more. We can't continue this relationship." Yohji's expression changed to rife shock, a most satisfying rise to get out of him if only the circumstances had been different. "We need to return to a working relationship – "

"You – what? You're saying you want to break things off?" Aya looked away from the fierce emerald gaze above him and glared instead at the table. "You're overanalysing things again. You _think_ too damn much, I've told you before – " when he still got no response he exhaled an annoyed breath and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "What brought you to this conclusion?"

Gathering the empty plate and glass from in front of him Aya rose and walked over to the sink, unpleasantly conscious all the way of Yohji's attention on him. He could say it had never felt entirely right after the first few times – that inherently he simply wasn't attracted to men. Initially it had seemed like the solution to many of his problems, even if he constantly had to struggle against his innate inclination to leave his desire to be loved entirely unacknowledged. Yohji was good at getting past the defences he put up, _too _good, and in the beginning it had been wonderful. Long-term though it was proving uncomfortable.

He could say all those things and they still wouldn't be the whole truth, so instead he said nothing. Unsurprisingly he found Yohji blocking his path as he tried to leave the kitchen.

"Don't try and shut me out. If you need your precious space then I'll give you all you need..." Something in his tone was already defeated, Aya detected. He knew, and the sadness in those eyes he had tried briefly to love was almost unbearable. "_God, you're beautiful –_ " he added in a whisper that made Aya close his eyes in unconscious denial of the entire situation.

"Get out of my way." He commanded, his voice impassive as ever, the words too quietly spoken to have any malice in them. Yohji however cared nothing for this subtlety, losing what was left of his temper. Predictable anger – something easier to deal with than the sadness that would be allowed to surface later.

"Get out of your way – is that it? I wasn't aware I was _in_ your way, Aya. I thought we were working towards something here, trying to move on from this miserable cycle we've been trapped in for years – " Aya drew in a breath, reigning in his own irritation at Yohji's blithe misinterpretation of his words.

"You're standing in the doorway." He pointed out coolly.

"You're unbelievable." Breathed Yohji, though as he spoke he took a step back into the hallway, then another that left Aya a path to the stairs. "Is there someone else, or were you just getting too frightened by the realisation that you actually do still have emotions other than anger and vengefulness?" Aya started forwards only to find his way blocked once more in front of the steps that led up to their rooms above the shop. "Maybe you really are just a cold bastard after all. Whatever – enough of you." Yohji started up the stairs himself, raising his voice so that the others would almost certainly hear him as well even if they weren't awake yet. "Enough of Weiß – I've had it with all of this!"

Reaching the landing he turned to finish, glaring down at Aya who stood unmoved. "Do you honestly believe we make any difference to anything? We're just murderers, just like a thousand other people out there, and just like them we've made up reasons to make what we do more acceptable." Aya had to wonder at what point Yohji had converted to his own view of their existences.

As Yohji headed into his room Ken was opening his door and peering quizzically into the corridor, sleepiness still hanging heavily over his confused features. He mumbled a question Aya didn't catch from where he was and as far as he could tell the only response was the slamming of a cupboard door. Moments later Yohji emerged, a well-travelled suitcase held tightly in one hand as he slung a coat over his shoulder with the other.

"So long." He offered savagely as Omi too emerged from his room looking startled.

"Don't do this." Aya requested quietly as Yohji passed him at the foot of the stairs. Why hadn't he allowed for how hotheaded his former friend could be? For some reason he had been under the mistaken impression he would have the strength to take this well, but he had not accounted perhaps for how serious Yohji had become. He hadn't wanted to admit to himself Yohji might actually –

"It's better for everyone." Yohji bit back. "It's better for _me_."

Maybe that was true, Aya reflected as Yohji made his way out to the back door. Omi padded rapidly down the stairs in his bare feet, his slightly overlong pyjamas almost tripping him in his haste. He was still not quick enough to reach the bottom before Yohji had unlocked the door and slung the key back onto its hook prior departing with no backward glance. Wide, cornflower-blue eyes turned searchingly to Aya who strove to ignore them.

"What happened? Where did he go?" Omi asked hurriedly.

"What the hell - ?" Ken put in from above.

Aya was momentarily tempted to tell them it was his fault, but a voice inside told him that wasn't entirely true. He had only been honest – he hadn't made Yohji's decision for him. For all they knew he would be back once his temper had calmed and his pride was restored, but Aya wasn't convinced. He let his eyes close momentarily in thought, then walked silently past Omi and ignored his further entreaties for an explanation as he made his way upstairs to his room.

"Is he coming back?" Ken tried, and Aya met his gaze fleetingly. Was there the ghost of some realisation in those dark eyes, or was he imagining it?

"Not for a while." Aya responded simply, and he could be fairly sure that much was true as he withdrew into his bedroom and closed and locked the door, shutting his friends out so he could be alone with his thoughts.


End file.
